psychobusters
by deliriousnight
Summary: "I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth. Because that's my job." But will she be able to stop herself from falling in love while she does that? AU. HitsuKarin.
1. oo1

**notes: **My first Bleach fic, so do drop me a review and lemme know what you think :3

This is an AU of course, as stated in the summary.

* * *

Kurosaki Karin was shivering.

She wasn't sure if this was because of the weather or something else entirely, but she pulled her leather jacket closer to her chest and continued to lean against the wall, hands in her pocket, feet bent, and propped behind her.  
She had been waiting for quite awhile against that wall, in the middle of nowhere. It was something to say for her patience, at least.

"Kurosaki-chan," a cheerful voice sounded and her eyes whipped around to meet those of Urahara Kisuke—or what little of his eyes could be seen from below the hat he perpetually wore on his head. "Been waiting long?"

"Of course," she said bluntly and rolled her eyes when he pouted childishly. A—no, _the_—black cat slunk around his ankles, tail moving slowly. It's eyes were all-knowing and on her face, causing her to pull her jacket even tighter around herself. "Do ya have the stuff?"

Urahara made a hand motion, as if to wave something away. "Why must we always get straight to the _nitty-gritty_?" he wanted to know. "Why don't you come into the shop sometimes, sit with me, have some tea?"

The cat hissed a little at this and peeked out from behind Urahara. _Go away_, those eyes said. _We don't want a Cursed Child in our home._

Or perhaps not. Perhaps Karin was seeing things that weren't really there. _It would be a change from the norm_, she thought somewhat bitterly. "I don't have time for that," she answered out loud. "I don't meet you for fun. This is my _job_."

Urahara nodded wisely, as if this had already occurred to him. It probably _had_; Urahara was known for speaking absolute nonsense or absolute obviousness, just to mess with her (or anyone else, for that matter). "Of course, of course. The original Ghostbuster, you are. Or," he grinned widely, "the original Ghostbuster _family_."

Karin glared. "Come off it, Urahara. Just give me the goods."

"Of course, of course," he repeated, still grinning and took out a bundle from his hat, flipping it off his head gracefully and then back on. "_That_ took the weight of _my_ head."

Karin blinked and made to take the bundle. "You're _actually insane_. Completely and _totally_ off your _rockers_," she muttered. The black cat bobbed its head, as if to agree.

He chuckled. "Whatever you think, sweetheart," he said easily enough. "Tell your otou-san and nii-san I said hi, yeah?"

He only chuckled more when she coolly twisted her head back to face him, shot him another glare _and_ the finger and disappeared out of that deserted meeting place.

"Interesting kid, huh, Yoruiichi." At the cat's look, Urahara held his hands up in surrender. "I _do_ owe her nii-chan, you know."  
Yoruiichi ignored him, skipping the opposite way of the one Karin had gone.  
**….**  
**….**  
**….**  
The lights were on at home. Karin took note of this, pushing back the tickling strands of her choppy hair and gathering them into a high ponytail.  
There was a certain dread to coming home at night. She'd never quite know what she'd find.

With those suspenseful thoughts in her mind, she placed her palm on the cold metal doorknob and pushed it open. The door squeaked a bit and she stepped over the threshold, glancing around to the sides. "Yuzu?" she called. "Nii-chan, otou-san?"

"Otou-san is in his room, mumbling to okaa-san's poster," came the reply. Yuzu appeared on top of the staircase, in her pale pink nightgown. There was a soft smile on her face, as she greeted her twin and walked to her. "Onii-chan has gone…out. I don't know when he'll be back." The smile trembled, but Yuzu tried to keep it under control.

Karin sighed and flashed her her _own_ smile, though it was much drier than her sister's. "When do we ever know that?"

Her sister didn't answer, eyes drawn to the bundle in Karin's hands. "You've got it?" she said. Her face was unreadable. "Are you going to go, then? Right now, tonight?" And, while she may have been trying _very_ hard to hide it, Karin could hear the _terror_ in her voice. It spoke of long nights alone and waiting for a broken family to be put together once more—_but none of them were sure if that would ever happen_.

"No," Karin breathed out, finally, after a long silence, and smiled soothingly. "No, it's fine. I'll go tomorrow and be back before midnight." She was almost thrown off balance when Yuzu launched herself at Karin, but she managed to stay steady on her feet. Yuzu clutched the black fabric of her jacket and whimpered—_whimpered, not cried, because Yuzu was _not_ going to be the weakling who cried, after all, but she could never harden herself as much as Karin had._

"Yeah," Karin murmured, lightly touching her sister's brown hair. "I know, Yuzu. I know."  
**….**  
**….**  
**….**  
The next morning, Karin woke up to the sound of blinds unfolding and the shine of sunlight on the back of her eyelids. She opened them wearily.

Yuzu was nowhere to be seen in her room.

Grumbling a bit, she threw her covers off her body and stood up. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," she hissed. She slyly stuck her foot under the bed, while she said this, where she kept her _secret weapon_.

A glimpse of white from the corner of her eye had her kicking said weapon towards whatever it was.

"A soccerball," said the person whose white hair she had seen incredulously, having avoided getting hit and was now balancing the ball on their foot. "Did you really intend to hurt me with a _soccerball_."

Karin scowled. "It's an effective piece of weaponry when _I_ use it."

"Right," the person said dubiously. Now that she was focused on them properly, Karin could see that _they_ were a _he_. A very _hot he_, tall, lean, muscled, with a shock of white hair on his head and crystal blue eyes, narrowed slightly at her.

But it didn't matter, Karin thought as she took in the glow around him. A little faded, yes, but the glow was still _there_ and it told Karin all she needed to know.

That glow was much too otherworldly for him to be _human_.

He was a ghost who she was going to have to kill.


	2. oo2

**notes:** i love writing this story so much omg

* * *

Karin was a hardened teenager; it didn't make her emotionless, but she _was_more likely to squint glaringly at a ghost in her room than someone like Yuzu, who would flutter around and offer a beverage. "Why are you in my room?" she demanded finally, after neither of them spoke for, what felt like, an hour. Better to get that out of the way first. "You _do_ realize who I am, right?"

The ghost's eyebrows furrowed bemusedly and he glanced around.

"You _don't_?" Karin realized after a moment.

He shrugged, mouth in a thin line. A very attractive—_ghostly_—mouth in a very attractive—_ghostly_—line. "Last thing I remember, I was sparring in the dojo. And now I'm here." He gestured around himself. Despite his obvious confusion, he still managed to command the room in a calm and confident way.

She sighed a bit. "Well, I guess it's my duty to tell you…" Pausing for a moment to take a few steps forward, until there were about two inches between them and Karin could see the crystal color of his pupils, "that I'm supposed to get rid of ghosts like you."

His eyes narrowed before he dodged the punch she threw his way, leaping four paces back. "What do you mean 'ghost'?" he wanted to know. "I'm a human being!"

She dropped down on her knees and swept her feet under his. It caught him off guard and he crashed to the floor, gasping. She tried to calm her breathing and stop the adrenaline that was suddenly rushing through her veins. Her blood was pumping, like it always did in such occasions, and she had to remind herself that this was her _room_, not a battleground, and Yuzu would slit her throat if she made too much of a mess.

"Look again," she snarled, then smirked when he did. "Normal _human beings_ don't _glow_, dude."

While he was distracted by this new discovery , she brought out the switch-blade she kept hidden in her hair—somewhere between the rubberband that kept it tied and the actual strands themselves—and pounced on his body, keeping him pinned to the floor. "Glowing is a sign of you being dead," she informed casually.

He glared at her but the effect was lessened by the confusion that intermingled. "If I'm already _dead_, then why are you attempting to kill me?" He nodded at the blade in her hand, readied for striking. It had been a gift from her brother, back in the Danger Days, back when the Kurosakis had to watch their backs every time they turned the corner. A bitter period, yes, a period when Karin could hardly catch her breath from all the running she had to do; but, also, a period that was much better than the suffering that they were subjected to now—full of a discomforting quiet that didn't seem to go away.

"Because you're still here," Karin replied after much deliberation. She could feel him struggling against her hold. Considering their respective statures, it would have seemed surprising to a bystander that she was prevailing; his broad shoulders rippled beneath her fingers, attempting to shove her off.

He had _definitely_ been sparring in a dojo, she mused. But it didn't change the fact that Karin had gone through serious training as an athlete and a Hunter, from a young age. She was confident in the toned limbs that had managed to_take care_ of so many ghosts in the past.

Ghosts were more powerful than regular humans, but not more so than someone who specialized in extinguishing their very existence. Namely, Karin herself.

At least, that's what she was convinced of until she stumbled off his body, his fingers gripping her forearm.

"Yeah," he agreed softly. "I am still here. And I don't think I'm that easy to get rid of."

The self-assurance had her smirking, despite the fact that she was kneeling on the floor as he hovered over her form. His palm sent cold shivers down her skin, not unpleasant. "Tell that to all your comrades who aren't here anymore."

Silver bangs flew into his eyes when he shook his head. Frustrated, she observed. A little annoyed. Certainly confused.

Exactly as a newly created ghost would and should be.

….  
….

Hitsugaya Toshiro had absolutely _no_ idea what was going on.

The last thing he recalled was training with one of the women of the dojo—ranked one belt lower than him, but years older. Not that that made her—Matsumoto Rangiku was her name—any more _mature_, constantly drinking herself into a craze. She had been heavily intoxicated when they were sparring too, he remembered clearly. Kept spinning out of his way with a glint in her eyes.

And he was sure that she had been able to knock him on his back. A blow to his head was a reasonable enough cause to fall unconscious.

But not enough to kill, he thought, sharply glancing at the girl who had kicked a soccerball and tried to use a knife on him. An infuriatingly cheeky grin was growing on her visage, glossy ponytail loosening and strands brushing his nails.

"Why are you doing that?" he demanded. "_Stop_."

"I don't take orders from _you_, Ghost Boy," she snapped back. Rather courageously for the girl who his hand was clenching the shoulder of.

"But you _should_ be taking them from me. 'm not one to take lightly."

"Ghost Boy," he repeated blankly. "I can't be a 'Ghost Boy,' for heaven's sake, I'm not dead!"

An unreadable expression began to take over her face just then, grin flushing off her lips.

Was that…_pity_?

"'Heaven's sake,'" she murmured sympathetically. "A shame you said that, considering it's exactly where you'll never go."

The knife that had, suspiciously enough, disappeared from his view when he had grabbed her, peeked out from her palm, and she drove it into the side of his neck.

Except…he couldn't even _feel_ it.

* * *

**notes2:** thoughts? :D


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